


i never wasted time hoping about this kind of thing

by quentinknockout



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 19:48:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10623918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quentinknockout/pseuds/quentinknockout
Summary: When Nix is barely missed by a bullet outside Nuenen, Dick does a little soulsearching. Very short fluff.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I recently watched Band of Brothers for the first time and fell in love with Nix and Dick. My first attempt at anything for this fandom, just some light fluff (my speciality). I only wish I'd watched it sooner!

\- -  
‘Nix!’  
There’s a tinny beat against his helmet. A flash of pain. And he’s down in the dust.  
For maybe a quarter of a second, Lew thinks that’s it. Any minute, he expects. His vision will cloud and he’ll feel that hot pool of blood. Maybe not totally instant, but something close to. Probably the best way to go that you’d hope for. He’s seen boys go down mutilated and in agony. Nice and quick, that might just be the ticket.  
But a quarter of a second more, and… nothing. No more pain. There a dab of scorched skin and his helmet’s been knocked clean, but there’s no blood on him, no gushing wound.  
Lucky.  
Then, goddamn, arms are around him, a hand clutching at the back of his neck. He blinks.  
His guardian angel has appeared, or close enough to. Dick’s bright blue eyes are wild with fear.  
‘I’m all right! I’m all right!’ Lew blurts. ‘Am I alright?’  
‘Yeah. Yeah. You feel alright?’  
‘Yeah.’ He’s never seen Dick look like that before, frozen, his grip still tight, and hell, the sight of it frightens Lew, erodes his relief, and he’ll do anything to dissolve it. He slips out of his grasp.  
‘Quit looking at me like that.’ 

\- -  
He's loved him, well, maybe a long time now.  
Dick is usually meticulous. Dates, times, procedures. But this kind of thing leaves him fuzzy. He’s not sure when it happened. Probably it was gradually, like missing a stair in the dark, then another, and before you know it you’re at the bottom, dazed. A series of moments. Maybe it was the slurred travel stories after too much whiskey back at Toccoa. Maybe it was always rising with a smartass comment for every occasion. But always, perhaps, it was the kindness. _‘We’ll go to Chicago. I’ll take you.’_  
Lewis Nixon, Dick Winters knows, is much gentler than most of the company might think.  
Of course, he can never say it aloud the way he wants to, the way he means, but Dick loves him.  
The other side of the coin is how much it feels like betrayal. To take a friendship and muddy it.  
The thought of Lew ever looking at him differently shreds Dick in two.  
So he does his best not to think about it.  
Sometimes, days are more difficult. When Lew talks through an intel brief, those dark brows furrowed, those warm eyes focused, Dick can occasionally find himself a little lost. Just once, he sometimes thinks, selfishly, it would be nice to feel Nix’s smile against his lips. Run a hand through that thicket of jet black hair.  
Later, he’s always so ashamed of his daydreams that he can’t sleep.  
Dick’s known he’s been, well, like that for a long time. He knows also that it’s certainly best to ignore it, fight it down, because war or no war, the world sure isn’t kind to those kind of men.  
And so he’s done well, up until Nix. 

He's not sure how, even in the bloody campaign, that it hadn’t occurred to him that he could lose Lewis Nixon. Dick’s seen men burnt, bloodied and buried every day since they landed, in multitudes of horror. But Lew never figured in his imaginings as one of the casualties, because Lew is always there, a constant, a fixed point, by Dick’s side, making sure he eats, offering whiskey he’ll never drink, a man whose smile you can practically hear. Dick loves him so much that maybe he’s been blinkered. 

So when Nix goes down in the dirt it’s like someone’s rammed a bayonet made of ice into Dick’s chest.  
He’s not conscious of his own body, or how he moves. The blood is rushing to his head, and all he can do is roar Nix’s name and dive to reach him. Those spare few seconds are terrifying. Dick’s afraid to see blossoming blood, a wound he can’t staunch, and selfishly, a thought crosses his mind, because _you never told him what he meant, did you?_  
But Nix is moving, and between his hands, he’s whole. Dick stares, searching, his heart in his throat, looking for some grievous injury he hasn’t spotted. Nothing but a patch of red on his forehead.  
‘Am I alright?’  
Dick feels like he might cry from relief, or giggle from hysteria, because Nix is fine, and it’s all right, but instantly, there’s more fire, and Nix has squirmed out of his grip.  
‘Quit looking at me like that.’  
It’s not for a long while til Dick stops feeling the thud of his heart in his chest.  
\--  
In the hours since Nix’s near miss, Dick feels a few hot stabs of guilt. It’s stupid, really, how he thought of himself in those horrifying seconds.  
But now, with Lew still close at his elbow, it seems he can barely meet his eye.  
Worse still, Lew has a sixth sense when something’s amiss. He’s well versed in the language of Dick Winters. Thankfully, he seems to have put Dick’s taciturn mood down to his dislike of retreat.  
They eat in silence. Nix takes a long sip of his flask.  
‘I thought I’d almost had my last,’ he jokes, waving it proudly, but Dick can’t even grin.  
The heaviness in his chest won’t abate. Unless…  
As it is now, Lew knows something’s wrong, and he knows him too well to believe a lie. And after all, in this horror, maybe it’s now or never.  
Always, to his own detriment, Dick Winters is an honest man.  
\- -  
Dick’s been silent the whole afternoon, and Lew doesn’t like it.  
Lew's carrying a small, seared mark on his forehead now, but he’s made it. He’s tried to joke about it, tried to lighten the mood, but god, he’s never known fear like that in Dick Winters’ eyes. He certainly doesn’t want to see it again.  
It's stupid to think, Lew reflects, but maybe Dick is his guardian angel. Secretly, he’s always kinda thought of him that way. Dick is too heavenly. Sometimes, he wonders if any of Dick’s purity will rub off on him at all, even the littlest smudge.  
Maybe there’s hope yet.  
Since Toccoa, Lew’s wanted a little part of Dick Winters’ goodness. He’s wanted much more than that, besides, but that doesn’t bear thinking about. For tonight, he’ll settle for a smile. Dick’s smile is lovely, and it’s half the reason Lew spends his time wisecracking.  
But there’s been no sign of it today, and it’s almost time to bunker down for the night.  
The darkness is heavy and thick, and they’re threading together to camp between a silent alley of parked trucks and tents when Lew realises something’s wrong. Dick has stopped walking, his face in darkness.  
‘Hey, y’allright?’ He asks, after a moment of silence. ‘Everything okay?’  
Dick steps back, against the nearest truck, shadowed by the canvas.  
‘Hey…’ Lew reaches out to steady him. God, he’s seen Dick almost faint before because he’s given rations to his men, and he can’t remember seeing Dick eat a thing. ‘Have you eaten? I can go get you something-‘  
‘No.’  
Dick’s voice is very soft. ‘No, stay.’  
‘Okay,’ Lew isn’t sure what’s wrong, but Dick’s breathing is slow and measured, like he’s anxious. ‘Do you need Doc Roe?’  
‘Just… listen for a sec.’  
He slips his helmet off with one hand, and Lew sees the glimmer of his eyes.  
‘Thought I might’ve lost you today.’  
‘Well,’ Lew grins, taps him on the arm. ‘Ya didn’t. Not rid of me that easily. Try your luck again-‘  
‘I mean it. I was scared.’  
With an unpleasant flash, Lew remembers the fear in Dick’s eyes. He steps closer, puts a hand on his arm. ‘Hey. It’s all right. I’ll try my best not to go anywhere.’  
Dick doesn’t ease out of his grip. His breath is close enough to tickle the base of Lew’s throat.  
‘I didn’t like seeing you scared.’ Lew murmurs, finally, when Dick still says nothing. ‘Not a natural state.’  
And he thinks maybe that he might’ve dreamed the next part somehow, because Dick Winters has edged forward and kissed him, pulling him closer like he’s starved. And Lew can’t do anything but stand there and taste the magic he’s only dreamt of, those soft, sweet lips, unsoured by any drink.  
‘I’m sorry.’ Dick mumbles, as they break apart. ‘I’m so sorry.’  
‘It’s all right,’ Lew says for the hundredth time, but not in the same way.  
‘For a long time, I’ve wanted-’ He’s having trouble finding the words, and Lew knows that if he could see Dick properly in the light he’d be as scarlet as his hair. ‘I’m…sorry.’  
‘I wish you’d tried sooner,’ Lew feels lighter, somehow, like he’s just polished off a whole bottle of champagne. ‘If I’d known that’d be my reward for almost getting killed, well, maybe I’ll walk into enemy fire more often.’  
‘I love you, Nix.’  
Dick has blurted it, like the words were hot and writhing within him. ‘I wish I could get rid of it. I know it isn’t right. I’ve tried to get better, I really have. But when you got knocked down today. I was scared you wouldn’t know. What you mean to me. And even if you don’t look at me like you used to, I - well, I needed to tell you.’  
He pauses. ‘I know it’s selfish.’  
His shoulders have sagged, and he is looking away. Lew feels a sudden rush of affection. This man has no idea. No idea of what he might be like in the eyes of others. How beautiful he is.  
‘You’re not selfish.’ He finally replies. ‘You never could be.’  
And it’s his terms, now, so Lew steps forward, runs a hand through that glorious red hair. The kiss he offers him is soft, tentative, and Dick leans into it.  
‘I never wasted time hoping about this kind of thing.’ Lew whispers. And because Dick’s breath has caught, and he doesn’t seem to understand, he spells it out for him.  
‘I love you too.’  
‘Oh.’ There’s palpable relief there, and it occurs to Lew that Dick thought he might’ve just ruined a friendship. ‘Really?’  
‘Yeah. I just figured you were too good for me.’  
And the next minute, Lew’s feeling that smile against his lips, and Dick’s body is close and warm. It’s another brief kiss, a snatched moment, and that might be how things will be for a while. But god, right now, he can’t believe his luck, here, of all places.  
‘Is this why you didn’t speak all afternoon?’ Lew asks, quietly, as they walk back together. They’re within earshot of others, so Dick’s reply is from between his teeth.  
‘I was saying the rosary. For you.’  
If it was ever possible for someone to glow with goodness from the inside out, Lew thinks, Dick Winters would be practically a lighthouse. As they say goodnight, Dick briefly puts his hand in his. It’ll be enough to tide him over, and all it took was a bullet graze for a minor miracle.  
If this is the way things pan out, Lewis Nixon will try for a flesh wound next time.


End file.
